BLACK
by Armybrat213
Summary: She woke of in the carnage of a car accident with no memory of who she is or where she was going. The only reason she's even alive is becasue of Officer Friendly who took the time to pull her away to safety. Now she must find a way to survive in a world that wants her dead. Her main questions? Who the hell are Sam and Dean Winchester and what do they have to do with her past?


Not my first story ever, but my first story on this site. I post a reader-insert version of this on Wattpad if you're interested in checking that one out. It's under the same title and I have the same username. Oh and also I have no idea who the OC will end up with at this point b/c it's a multiple result story on Wattpad (it probably wont be on here) Umm the possibilities are either Rick, Daryl, Sam, or Dean though.

**_EPISODE ONE:: WAKING UP_**

_"Hey!"  
_I felt hazy. Thoughts formed slowly and a slow burning pain spread across my body.  
_"Hey, you need to get up!"  
_There was a voice. Male. It was quiet though. As if I was hearing it from underwater. Muffled.  
_"Can you hear me?"  
_My eyes fluttered open. Morning light greeted me along with a clear blue sky. A face hovered over mine. Square in shape with a freshly shaven jawline. His mouth was pulled tight in concentration and his eyes were blue. A darker shade than the sky, but still clear and bright. Dark hair was hidden under a wide brimmed hat. A sheriff hat.  
"I'm going to help you sit up. It might hurt."  
Warm hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me up slowly. A small cry of pain slipped my lips as apologies spewed from his. I was facing a car now. A red two door, although now one was missing completely. It sat on its roof with my body half in it. My legs stretched across the roof of the car. Jeans, ripped and bloodied, clothed them. One foot was covered in a dark brown boot, the other only had a black ankle sock.  
The same hands hooked under my arms and began to pull me out of the car. I was able to hold back the hiss of pain that built up in my chest.  
My arms were scratched up slightly along with my hands. The t-shirt I wore was covered in blood. The man helped me to my feet.  
"Watch the glass." He murmured helping me walk over to where a police car was parked across the empty road. I was careful not to step on any of the twisted metal or glass. He sat me down sideways in the passenger seat carefully. My legs stretched out.  
My eyes traced over the scene in front of me. A totaled car. Debris scattered across the road. Blood stains against the gray asphalt. The man stood out from the scene, yet at the same time he fit in.  
He had on a police uniform. Tan short sleeve button up with brown pocket flaps and a gold star on his chest. Dark tan pants with a holster around his waist carrying a gun. He took his hat off and squatted in front of me.  
"How are you feeling? Is your head alright?"  
I glanced off to the side. My eyes focused immediately on the wounds. Part of my reflection in the angled window showed a wound above my left eye. Blood had dried across my skin and clumped up in my eyebrow. A bruise highlighted my left cheekbone and my bottom lip was slightly busted. My eyes focused on a form beyond the reflection.  
A human hand.  
It was discolored and I could see the bone. It was half in the forest buried in a thick group of bushes.  
"I-I hit someone, didn't I? There's a hand." I managed to say. He stood and turned around. As if it felt the man's gaze on it the hand was slowly pulled back into the bushes. A face came out next. A face with discolored skin, a deep gash across the forehead, and no jaw. A scream escaped my lips at the same time a bullet was fired from the officer's gun.  
A deafening silence returned to the area. He pursed his lips together and tucked the gun back into its holster.  
"That'll attract more of them. We have to get out of here. My name is Rick Grimes." He slipped his hat back on, "Can you tell me your name?"  
I opened my mouth only to freeze up. No answer formed on my lips. Panic welled up in my body as I pulled down the passenger visor with shaking hands. A complete reflection stared back at me, but this time I didn't look at the wounds.  
Unfamiliar dark brown eyes were wide in shock. A heart shaped face with lightly tanned skin and a spray of freckles across the nose. Light brown hair swallowed the unfamiliar face in waves, short bangs were held back with two bobby pins. It wasn't a face I recognized.  
"I don't know." I stammered and shook my head. My eyes snapped back towards Rick, "I don't know who I am."  
My breaths came faster as I tried to suck in more air. Panic began to well up in my chest as the feeling of drowning overcame me.  
"Hey, calm down!" He said reassuringly, "I need you to trust me, alright? Everything is going to be ok, understand?"  
I took a deep breath and nodded my head. Maybe it was the uniform or the look of honor in his eyes, maybe it was the way he held himself, but I truly did trust him as silly as it sounded. Rick leaned over me and grabbed a brown jacket. The sleeve had a decorated sheriff deputy patch that matched his shirt. He laid it over my shoulders comfortingly before turning and jogging back to the wreckage where he began to dig through it.  
I buried my face in my hands.  
Nothing was coming to me.  
I didn't know where, when, or who I was. I didn't know why I crashed or where I was going. All these frantic questions swirled around the biggest of them all. What was that thing lurking in the bushes?  
When I glanced back up, Rick had a medium sized book bag around one of his shoulders. His eyes glanced up and down the road in caution before he ushered for me to get completely in the car. I moved my legs in quickly.  
"You had this in your backseat. There was a wallet inside." He said setting the bag gently on my lap before closing the door and heading toward the driver's side. He jumped in and immediately began to speed down the road. There was movement in the forest, but I refused to look closer.  
"Do you know what that thing was?" I asked gripping tightly to my bag. "The thing in the bushes you shot."  
"You don't know?"  
"I don't know anything. I-I can't remember a single thing."  
He nodded, "I only woke up recently. I was...I was in a coma. Woke up in the ruins of the hospital. I really don't know how to put this gently so I'll just say it. The dead have been rising. They attack the living."  
"The dead- They attack?" My eyes widened. "How is that even- How?"  
"They eat anything that moves, and if you're bitten you'll become one too. Just found out myself really." He glanced over at I again, "I'm heading to Atlanta to find my family. My wife and son. It looked like you might be heading that way anyways, you're welcome to join me."  
"Were you there when I- when the car-?"  
"No. I saw the wreckage from a distance. You're lucky you weren't attacked. All that blood, I figure they'd come running."  
I moved my gaze back to the bag in my lap, and opened a smaller top pocket to see a decorative wallet laying there. I picked it up and began to search through it. There was $400 in cash, but no credit or debit cards. An old receipt for gas that I got at a random gas station in Texas. Finally, I pulled out my driver's license.  
"My name is Aimee Jane Smith." I said aloud. There was no recognition in the name, but it felt familiar on my tongue. As if I've said it many times before, "I was born on April 26, 1984 and according to this I'm from Alabama."  
"Alabama?"  
"Yeah, but I don't think that's where I was coming from. I have a receipt that puts me in Texas. When did this...thing, start?" I questioned.  
Rick paused in thought, "Maybe a month ago. Can't be sure."  
I was quiet for a moment as I mulled this new information over. Where had I been when all this started, and why was I going towards Atlanta? The pain began to settle on me. Soreness washed over my muscles and my head throbbed.  
"Officer Grimes, I do want to go to Atlanta with you." I spoke up.  
"Good, I wasn't exactly comfortable with letting someone as injured as you are wander around alone anyways." He chuckled, "And you can just call me Rick."  
"Thank you. For earlier I mean."  
"No problem."  
The ride became silent again as I leaned back against the seat. My eyelids began to grow heavy. I knew I shouldn't fall asleep because I might have a concussion, but I was fading into unconsciousness fast. Rick picked up the radio on the front panel and began to speak into it.  
"Can you hear my voice? If anybody reads, please respond." He paused and I closed my eyes, "Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on 85. If anybody can hear, please respond."  
I slipped into the blackness.

A slight shaking motion startled me awake. I glanced over to see Rick glancing at me with worry.  
"You alright?"  
I sat up and stretched my back. The soreness was still there along with a few sharp pains, but that was expected. I gave him a slight nod, but flinched at the headache that had formed.  
"The car ran out of gas. I was gonna walk ahead and try to find some more."  
"I want to go too."  
"Alright, grab your bag just in case."  
I took my boot off and found a pair of flip flops in my book bag. Not an ideal choice of footwear in the apocalypse, but it was better than being barefoot. I slipped out of the car and shut the door. My bag was on my back. I glanced over to see Rick pull a picture from the overhead flap on the ceiling of the car. He tucked it into his pocket. Rick had his own black duffel bag in one hand and a red gas can in the other. We both began walking down the side of the road. I still wore his jacket.  
"I'm sorry that I haven't been very social. Just had a lot on my mind." He readjusted his hat.  
"It's fine. My head is pounding so I don't think I'd be up for any deep conversations anyways." I replied with a forced smile. Rick chuckled. "Can you tell me more about those...the walking dead?"  
"Wish I could, but I honestly don't know much myself. I know the only thing that kills them is a headshot and they're attracted to sound. The guy who helped me called them walkers." Rick answered.  
"You said you were heading to Atlanta to find your wife and son right? How do you know they'll be there?"  
"I don't." Rick said bluntly, he paused before continuing in his deep southern tinged tone, "But it's the first place to start looking. A friend I met in my city said there was a refugee camp there, and the CDC was working on a cure. I figured they'd try to head there."  
"That's why you think I was heading to Atlanta too. To find family?" I asked. Rick nodded and I pondered on this. It'd be great if I could find some sort of family members. Someone who recognized me. Maybe they could shed some light on my murky past, "Too bad I can't remember who my family is."  
Rick noticed my downcast look and gave you a nod, "Hey. We'll figure this out. Don't worry."  
It gave me a small bit of comfort that he said 'we' rather than 'you'. It made me feel less alone. Like I had an ally in this mess of a world.  
"So how'd you end up in a coma?"  
As we walked, Rick told me about how he was shot on the job working with his partner and fell into a coma. He had stumbled through the dead hospital into the streets of his abandoned town only to almost wind up dead himself. A father and son took him in and helped him get on his feet. He returned the favor by taking them to the sheriff's department and getting them a few weapons. That's what his own duffel bag was filled with, guns and ammo. Rick had woken up maybe a month after the end of the world and had no idea what was going on.  
I could relate.  
We came to a stop when Rick spotted a small farmhouse off the side of the road. The house was white with a tan roof. The paint on the house was peeling and all that could be heard was the buzzing of a few bugs and the wind chime playing its eerie melody. Rick and I stopped in the front lawn. He dropped his bag and I followed suite.  
"Hello?" Rick called out loudly, "Police officer and a friend out here."  
He took a few steps toward the front porch staircase, "Can we borrow some gas?"  
Rick waited a few seconds before glancing back at me. He then set the gas can down and quietly walked onto the porch. He peeked through the door's window, "Hello?"  
I watched as he knocked on the door a few times and called out again, "Hello? Anybody home?"  
I shifted my weight with an uneasy feeling rising up in me, "Can you see anybody through the window?"  
Rick glanced through the first window before moving onto the second one. He looked through this one longer before turning on his heel and quickly stepping off the porch.  
"What's wrong?" I took a few steps forward. The curiosity in me wanted to take a look for myself. Rick held out his arm and stopped me.  
"Don't. Just don't look. Trust me."  
He brushed by me and took a seat on a stone bench off to the side. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his wavy dark hair. A sigh escaped his lips and I could see the troubled look on his face.  
I walked over and sat beside him. Words wouldn't form. I didn't know how to comfort him like he had done for me. So I slipped out of his jacket and hung it around his shoulders, much like how he had done to me. Rick turned his head to glance at me. I gave him a small smile. He nodded and sat up straight.  
"We need to keep moving. I'm gonna check the truck." He stood and crossed the small space to a small pickup truck.  
Rick held his hat while he opened the truck door and began to search for keys. I sat and watched him as his search turned up nothing. He shut the door and walked back towards me she a sudden sound made me jump.  
"Was that a...?" My voice trailed off as the we walked around the house. Standing in a closed off area was a large light tan horse. Splotches of light gray were scattered along his back and a stripe of white went down his nose.  
"A horse." Rick confirmed as a smile slipped onto his face. He turned to me and handed over his hat and jacket, "Hold these."  
I slipped his jacket back on so one hand would be open and held his hat in the other. Rick found some rope and opened the gate door. The horse jumped back in surprise letting out a cry.  
"Easy now. Easy. Not gonna hurt you. Nothing like that." Rick took slow and steady steps. His voice was calm and reassuring, "More like a proposal."  
I leaned against the fence and watched with interest at his movements. He stepped closer to the horse, "Atlanta's just down the road a ways. It's safe there- food, shelter, people. Other horses too, I bet."  
I let out a soft chuckle and Rick glanced back at me before returning his attention back to the mostly calm horse. Rick slowly wrapped the rope around the horse's neck and rubbed his hand against the horse's white stripe, "There we go, good boy. Good boy."  
"Thought you were a cop, not the horse whisperer." I joked. Rick led the horse forward with a smile.  
"I'm gonna see if I can find a saddle for him. Can you grab our bags?"  
I gave him a slight nod before handing him his hat and heading back toward the front of the house. The bags were still sitting there alongside the red gas can. I crouched down to my bag and opened it up. Maybe I had some Motrin to numb my growing headache.  
Near the top was a small med-kit. I pulled it out and opened it. Inside were the typical small first aid materials. Some gauze, band-aids, Neosporin, and pills. There were also some tools for stitching up a wound. What caught my eye though was a white envelope that had been folded and held inside the kit.  
I opened it up to find two pictures. The first was of me and a girl my age. Her hair was long and brown, she had a lightly tanned complexion with a wide smile and pretty brown eyes. The two of us were smiling while wearing scrubs with tags that read volunteer.  
The second was of me and a guy standing in front of a large building. There were multiple signs in the back of the picture, but all I could read was, _'University of Alabama in Birmingham'_. A medical school.  
"What is that?"  
I turned to see Rick walk up with the horse. The horse now had a saddle. "I found some pictures while looking for medicine."  
I handed them to him to look at while I grabbed a pill for headaches and dry swallowed it. He handed them back to me after a moment, "UAB. That's a medical school isn't it?"  
"Yeah. I think I was a...", I paused, "Marie was in school to be a surgeon and I was going to be an ER doctor."  
"I'm sure that'll come in handy. Maybe you were trying to meet up with her." Rick suggested.  
I shook my head, "She's dead."  
It wasn't a solid memory, but I could remember black. Black jackets, black dresses, and a black coffin. The air was hot and dry. People cried. She had died too soon.  
"I think that's why I was in Texas. Her funeral." I murmured.  
Rick set a hand on my shoulder snapping my attention back to reality, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about your friend."  
I gave him a nod. I wish I could remember more than her name and her death. I flipped over the picture of the two of us to see scribbled handwriting, _'Marie & Aj'_. I tucked them away into my bag along with the med kit.  
Rick got onto the horses back and I passed him his duffel bag. He set it firmly in front of him so it wouldn't fall off and then held out his hand to help me up. I slipped on my book bag over Rick's jacket that I still wore and hesitantly glanced from his hand to the horse.  
"What's wrong?"  
"Considering how worried I am about getting on the horse I'm thinking I wasn't a big fan of riding before all this." I joked.  
Rick chuckled, "Don't worry."  
I took a deep breath and took his hand. He helped me onto the horse. Everything seemed alright so far. It felt a tad bit awkward sitting so close to someone I didn't know very well though.  
"Go easy, ok. I haven't done this for years, and Aimee's nervous too." Rick murmured and pulled on the horse's reigns. It suddenly galloped forward into the field. All thoughts of awkwardness were thrown aside as I wrapped my arms around Rick's waist and clung tightly to him.

The ride wasn't too terrible. When the horse eventually slowed down to a walk it was almost enjoyable. I kept my arms loosely around Rick just in case the horse decided to pick up speed again. As the horse stepped onto the main road to Atlanta the two of us fell into a quiet shock. The road in was empty and bare while the road out was filled with destroyed and gutted cars lined bumper to bumper.  
"That's really eerie." I murmured and unintentionally tightened my arms around him. Rick lightly kicked the horse making him hurry down the empty road a little bit faster.  
The city wasn't any better. Streets were abandoned and silent as trash and debris floated down the road, carried by the warm breeze. The horse slowly trotted down the road past abandoned cars and a large bus. I glanced inside to see people sitting in the seats. One turned its rotted head to look at me. I jumped and clutched onto Rick's shirt as the horse began to panic.  
"It's alright." Rick brushed the horse with his hand trying to calm him down, "Nothing we can't out run. You alright, Aimee?"  
"Y-Yeah." I continued to stare at the walker following us. Its skin was ashy and its eyes were glazed over. "I'm fine."  
The horse continued down the street when Rick stopped him in front of a large tank sitting in the middle of the road. Lying on the cannon was a dead body being eaten by black crows that cawed loudly.  
Rick turned the horse around when a new sound greeted my ears. It was a steady thumping noise high in the air.  
"That sounds like a helicopter." I said aloud. Rick scanned the skies desperately.  
"Over there!" He motioned toward the reflection of a helicopter flying past a tall skyscraper. He snapped the reigns and sent the horse down the street chasing after it. The horse turned the corner and at the next sight my stomach dropped.  
Hundreds of walkers shuffled along the street aimlessly. At the sound of the horse though they all snapped their attention toward Rick and I. Panic welled up in me as the horse threw its two front legs up into the air. Rick turned the horse and sent it back down the street where we came.  
The horse slid to a stop at the sight of more walkers. It threw its legs up again in panic. I lost my grip and fell off the horse this time. I landed on my back causing a sharp pain in my already hurt shoulder.  
"Rick!" I yelled as some of the walkers eyes danced toward I.  
"Aimee, run!" He yelled, "I'll find you!"  
Walkers rushed toward the horse. I wanted to help, but Rick motioned me away. The groan of a walker behind me made me sprint forward past the mass and down the street. I glanced back to see six walkers following me at a startling speed. I pushed myself to run faster. That was when I stumbled and lost my first flip flop. I let the second fall off my foot as I sprinted down the road without looking back. Gunshots could be heard but I kept running. Fear and panic flooded my system as death itself chased me down the quiet streets of Atlanta.


End file.
